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OUR BOYS

Jason put his hand where his knee had been and shook out his empty trouser leg. He couldn’t get his head round it. The medics had warned him about phantom pains but—bloody hell ---they should have it. They didn’t know what it was like.

All the noise was doing his head in, the pub was crowded and people were shouting at each other but not listening their eyes on the screen. Two minutes to half time. The lads had got there early and had wheeled in Jason’s chair wedging it into a corner out of the way behind a small table. The table was littered with empty lager bottles and crisp packets. His head itched and Jason scratched at his scalp. This was what he’d dreamed of, this pub, a cold beer with the lads and a match on the telly…but not like this.  He squeezed his eyelids tight. Cripple, he thought, that’s what I am - a bloody cripple.

“ Alright  Jason?”

A bunch of lads were pushing past to the gents..

“Yeah – no worries mate.”

  Jason wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and ducked his head..

“Yeah—no fucking worries.”   

.He drummed his fingers on the sticky surface of the table; despite the deodorant he could smell sweat, it was sour and unhealthy and he could smell something rancid like rotting meat; maybe it was his stump. He looked at his watch, a birthday watch and he wanted out.

Ginger, his mate, pushed his way towards him holding two glasses at arms length the amber liquid spilling over onto the wooden floor.

“Alright Jason” he shouted as a cheer went up; another goal for the lads..

“Thanks mate “ but Ginger had already turned and was on his way back to the bar.

Jason trailed his fingers through wet rings of beer making patterns on the table top. The lads were singing now their arms in a Mexican wave and he shifted on his seat to get a better view but he could only see the top half of the screen and the noise was hurting his brain. He felt sick and closed his eyes thinking that if he could lie flat he’d be alright; he didn’t want to pass out in the pub.

He felt for the brake on his chair and tried releasing it a little the seat shifting beneath him but the table was in the way and Jason swore as his good knee hit the bevelled edge. He took a gulp of liquid from the glass in front of him and swilled it backwards and forwards through his teeth. It was quieter now, people holding their breath for a penalty then another cheer as the lads stamped their feet the wooden boards juddering beneath them.  Jason doubled over and his shirt felt damp under the arms.

“Alright  Jason?”  Another full glass in front of him.      

Jason ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his eyes. That kid, he kept seeing the kid’s face That kid and the woman.  Bloody war zone and she lets her poxy kid point a gun. How was he supposed to know it was plastic. Stupid bitch the mother.  Screamed like a bloody animal. She didn’t have to make that noise. No normal person would scream like that…..  

“Alright  Son?”

Jason’s fist hit the table.

“Yeah, I look fucking alright don’t I?”

He turned and took in the old man about to sit down, the flat cap and shiny black blazer with a badge on the breast pocket.

“ Bloody Hell, Grandad, you look like Steptoe. Where’d you get that cap?”

The old man grinned and placed a five pound note on the damp table. He pushed it towards Jason.

“Your birthday Son.”

 Jason stared at the note.

 What’s going to happen, Grandad? What are they going to do to me?”

“ Dunno son” the old man pulled his pint towards him. “You’ll be alright.”

 “You don’t know what its like out there, Grandad. They hate us.”

“Yeah I know Son.”

“You don’t know, Grandad. I could be fucking dead. That kid could have killed me.”

“But, Son, you said he was six years old.”

“You don’t listen, listen to me. Even if he were two years old he pointed a fucking gun at me. What would you have done? Eh?”

Jason’s knee, the good one, was shaking and the old man put a hand on it.

“It’s alright Son. They can’t touch you. You were wearing a uniform, weren’t you?  The Queen’s uniform, eh? You’re a soldier.The Regiment‘ll look after you”

“Yeah. Suppose.”

Jason leaned forward laying his head on folded arms.

“ I keep seeing her.” He said  “ I keep seeing her face Grandad, that woman’s face.--- and the kid.  That kid. ----  It’s like   ------     --   I saw these two dogs, Grandad, on the main road when I was little and the small one  ---   it got run over didn’t it  --- and the other dog, the big one, it  ran round and round in circles and it howled  --  it wouldn’t stop   ----  

The old man sighed.

“  I know son, I know.”

 You weren’t even there. You don’t know nothing.”

.Suddenly the match was over and the lads were cheering.  They hoisted Jason out of his chair one on either side while he tried to steady himself on one foot.

“Oggy Oggy Oggy”   their feet stamped one two one two.

Someone said

“Bloody Hell  Mate. You’ve pissed yourself ”

 The lads were laughing and Jason grinned back. His fist punched the air.

“Oi Oi Oi” he shouted.